Trapped
by Destiny852
Summary: Alphonse Heiderich reflects on the strange man in his home...Spoilers for FMA moive A scene with Al and Roy, too.


**My first FMA story. Be nice kiddies, or turn your caboose the other way around. **

**Warnings: NOT FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE NOT SEEN SCREENCAPS, READ SPOILERS, OR EVEN HEARD OF THE FMA MOVIE, King of Shambala. Oh, and a tad of Al Heiderich x Ed Elric fluffiness, I guess. **

**Trapped**

Alphonse Heiderich arrived at the small little town of Shambala. He stopped halfway to listen to the rattling noise of the trains leaving the accursed city, which had always made him wonder if he should just jump back on the train and ride away into the sunset.

But there was no way out.

He knew that.

The sun had faded from the sky, with the exception of a few dazzling shards of sunlight clinging to the dark clouds on the western horizon.

The young man sighed, as a mirthless smile on his lips formed as he trudged along the dirt road, knowing it was the only thing that time couldn't change. The broken tree, the howling wind, and the cars moving by, that is. Nothing changed other than that, and nothing **but** that. For everything else, time moved on, but for these things, time seemed to stay still.

He reached his front door, and gulped before he walked in, knowing the nutcase, which he had so kindly offered a home, called Edward Elric, would be studying the chemistry called alchemy. Sometimes he just wanted to smack him and say, "wake up, this is the real world", but then he would see the intensity, and sometimes flames, burning in his eyes, and would decide not to.

"I'm home," he finally replied, hanging his coat on the coat rack. He noticed that the long blonde haired man was not glued to the kitchen seat researching. He turned into the living room, and spotted him.

"I'm home," he repeated, causing a yelp to come from the man. He turned around in response.

"W-welcome back." He stammered silently, trying to collect the scattered papers he had so "neatly" thrown onto the living room coffee table. One picture caught Alphonse Heiderich's eye.

"Can I see that?" he asked, gently looming over the blonde haired man like a shadow. Ed nodded, and handed him said picture. Alphonse examined it closely. On the top left side of the picture was a little boy; who looked no older that eight, who had short blonde hair and a big smile glued to his face, pouncing happily onto a middle aged, brown haired, happy featured woman. It was the bottom right side of the picture that baffled him.

The eyes mirrored his own. The hair mirrored his own. The great big smile that was plastered to his face so tenderly, although he rarely wore it, mirrored his own. He looked back to the blonde haired man, who wore a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Mr. Elric, who is this little boy in the bottom right?" Alphonse asked, pointing out his mirror image. "It looks surprisingly like..."

"Like you?"

Alphonse Heiderich was taken aback by this. It was like he could look through his blank expression, see past the fake smiling face and see the very thoughts that ran from his head to his lips. He nodded.

Edward Elric sighed. "Well, it should."

Once again, Alphonse Heiderich was surprised at the utterly baffling and sometimes **random **words that escaped Edward Elric's mouth.

"This is...the you in another world. The one I come from."

Alphonse Heiderich sighed. He wondered what the **hell **he was bloody thinking when he offered this lunatic a home. "Are you hungry? I brought home some pasta."

"No thanks." the dark blonde haired man replied.

If he wasn't on crack when he let this man in his house, then he must have been on **something**.

"Who was that...um, boy in, uh your world?" Alphonse asked, who thought he sounded rather silly, but then remembered who he was talking to and started to calm down. "Was he a relative or something?"

"He was my little brother."

Alphonse Elric, now a young man, sneezed sitting in Roy Mustang's office.

"Are you catching a cold, Al?"

"N-no, sir. At least, I don't think so." He answered back, bowing his head in embarrassment.

"Good. Now, the reason I called you in here..." the black haired man began, and he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a picture.

"...is because I found **this**."

Alphonse Elric took the picture, and examined it carefully. It was a picture of what seemed to be a young man in a red coat, much like his own, with blonde hair, much like his own, and a mischievous face, although he rarely wore it, that was much like his own. He seemed to be sitting by a huge hunk of armor, who wore a purple loin cloth and a Alchemists' emblem on his shoulder.

"...doesn't strike a memory at all? Nothing?" Roy asked, leering over.

"...strike a memory of what? I don't get it. Should I know these people, Colonel-san?" Al responded, handing back the picture to Roy, who sighed and shoved it into his desk.

"That, Al, was you and your **brother.**"

He had heard about his brother before. It wasn't that he didn't remember him; he did, but only little bits and pieces about him. Everyone had told him that Edward Elric was a no –good trouble maker, stubborn, straight forward, and wanted nothing more than to restore his and his own body, and so he could care less about the country **or **its people.

But Roy Mustang saw Edward Elric in a different light.

He was always telling him how his brother was not as people labeled him, and that he was good deep down, and cared for Alphonse Elric more than anything. He liked hearing about his brother from Colonel Mustang more than anything else; because he believed he was telling him the truth.

"This is **me **and him, you say? I didn't see myself anywhere in that picture, Colonel-san." Al responded again hastily.

"Ah, how soon we forget. Didn't I tell you he sealed your soul in a suit of armor, or is that still so unbelievable?"

"Of **course** it's unbelievable! Me? A suit of armor? That's crazy! Sometimes I think you all are just **pretending** I had a brother with some of the nonsense you spout!" Al snapped, standing up in his chair.

"Don't make it sound like he's **dead**, Al. You didn't have a brother **then**. You have a brother **now." **

Al sat back in his chair, blushing like a guilty little child. "Y-yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I – I'm just angry, I guess."

"I understand. It's frustrating to keep looking for something for a long time."

The black haired man said the same thing every time Alphonse visited his office. He pretended like he **knew **what it was like. But he didn't know. No one knew.

"Well if it doesn't help, you should hit the hay, Al."

Alphonse got out of his chair, and headed out the door. "Good Night, Colonel."

"Good night, Full- ah, I mean Alphonse."

Alphonse took one step out the door before he was interrupted once again.

"You need to believe in him, Al."

Alphonse closed the door behind him, not responding. "Yeah, point out the obvious, why don't you?" he thought nastily, trotting down the hall. Of **course** he believed in him. That was the only thing that had kept him going for two years. Two years that had turned up nothing.

He closed the door to his room behind him and threw himself on the bed.

What would he do when he found him, anyway? He couldn't exactly just say "Hey bro', how's it going'? Where've ya' been the last two miserable years of my life?"

He sighed, and remembered something from the past. It made him smile. Whenever Alphonse Elric had been sad, his brother always patted him on the head. He mentally slapped himself for even **thinking** his brother had been all made up. Sleep beckoned him, and he started to close his eyes.

It wasn't the belief of his brother still being alive that kept him going.

It was the memories of his brother, that proved he was alive, that kept him going.

It had gotten dark, and Alphonse Heiderich still could hear the scratching of a pencil tapping away from his bedroom. "Is he still awake?" he thought, and got up in his bed. He sneaked down the stairs and noticed the scratching became louder.

Yep, still awake. He sighed.

"_You need to believe in him, Al." _

He fell down the stairs, and landed at the bottom with a loud "THUMP." Edward ran over to his side.

"A-Al! A-are you okay? Are you bleeding anywhere?"

Al opened his eyes. What was that weird voice he had suddenly heard? Better question, why did it sound familiar? He shook his head. Edwards' crazy must be contagious.

"I-I'm okay. I'm just shocked is all."

He walked back up the stairs, his legs still trembling.

"You need to believe in him, Al?" What the **hell** does that mean? Believing in that guy meant you needed a straight jacket.

Alphonse gasped, and chuckled lightly to himself. He turned out the lights, and let sleep lightly take over.

He started to hear the familiar rattling noise of the trains leaving the accursed city, which always made him wonder if he should just jump back on the train and ride away into the sunset.

But there was no way out.

He was trapped.

But he was beginning to think that was okay.

**XxOwarixX **

**I dedicate this fan fiction to Nessa and Courtney for no particular reason. What am I saying; of COURSE I have a reason! And a particular one at that! THEY'RE MOVING AWAY! **

**...uh, I mean, please read and review. No flames, please. **


End file.
